Chapter 3: New Recruit
Entry 1c: Unfortunately, I haven't got much time left. All the while I've been writing this, I've been waiting on the Doctor to return. We struck a deal, due in no small part to my brilliant skills of debate and persuasion. I get to abandon this dull old life for a little while, thanks to him. It was a very last-minute arrangement, and I'm sure my parents would find it ill-advised. Honestly, if he was anyone other than the Doctor, I would, too. I certainly don't recommend vacationing with people you barely know. That's how you get kidnapped.
But I digress.
I've never been impulsive, either. I need to know at least a week in advance before attending a social gathering or outing of any kind. I'm the friend who always makes the itinerary. I like to know what I'm doing, where I'm going, and how long I'll be there, at all times. I can't pack for a spur-of-moment vacation the night before. Except, that's exactly what I just did. When suddenly faced with an unbelievable opportunity, even I altered my pattern. Frankly, I think a lot of people would. It's like Whack-a-Mole: when that mole pops up, you know it won't be there for long, so you hit it as soon as possible. A mole popped up in my life today, and I knew I had to either hit it or lose the game. I'm taking the hit, and we'll see how it goes.
I plan to chronicle my entire journey via these journal entries. And who knows – maybe, when I get back to Earth, I'll compile them into a book to publish. "The Doctor's Diarist," or something like that. "Tagging Along with a Time Lord," maybe. I don't know; it's a work in progress.
The Doctor says that he'll be able to drop me back off later this very night, so it'll be like no time has passed. That'll be weird – to have had this incredible experience, meanwhile everyone is completely unaware that it happened. But it also means I don't need to confront my parents about this. Even the thought of that conversation gives me a headache. No friends to inform, no housesitting to arrange, no homework to catch up on. I almost suggested that we wait until after finals week, but ultimately decided against it. 'Strike while the iron is hot,' as they say. I don't want to delay the fulfilment of my dream. (Which I know sounds dramatic, but it's true.) Plus, this reprieve is exactly what I need before spending all those excruciating hours in the classroom.
The anxiety is almost making me want to back out, but I know I'd regret that for the rest of my life. I'm gonna power through; I know I'll adjust eventually. 'Adapt or die,' and all that. I'm excited to see what this trip brings out of me. I want to rise to the occasion, to become a better version of myself. Some people backpack through Europe. I guess I'm doing this. I can tell it will be a highly influential experience.
Laura, unsurprisingly, thought Gemma had gone absolutely mad. But when Gemma and the Doctor appeared in her dorm room in a blue box, out of thin air, she had a changed perspective. There, they talked in more detail and discussed a plan. Laura worked part-time at an indie coffee shop, and it just so happened that tonight, she would be the one to clean up and lock down after service hours. This provided the perfect setting for a trap.
"Now," the Doctor said, "I need to figure out how to deliver the anecdote to them all."
"I thought you had the dart gun?" Gemma questioned.
He shook his head. "That's works fine for one-to-one confrontations, but not when they're in a group. By the time I fire off one dart, the others will have tackled me." The Doctor huffed in frustration, beginning to pace a circle around Laura's couch. "What I need is a Molecular Dispersion Engine, but Earth won't sell those for centuries, and I've got no time to make one."
"What's it do?" Laura wondered, baffled and amazed by every movement he made. Her and Gemma had that in common. (And, no, they most certainly did not gawk and whisper every time he turned his back.)
"You fill it with fluid, and it changes the form of matter to a gas. Then it releases the gas as a massive vapor that can fill up a ballroom."
Gemma scrunched her nose. "Sounds like a glorified fog machine, if you ask me."
The Doctor pivoted so quickly it made Gemma dizzy. The look on his face was one of realization, excitement, and appreciation. "Yes! Ah, of course, why didn't I think of that? I'm so dense sometimes. We don't need futuristic technology; I can just get an ordinary fog machine and tweak it to suit our purposes!"
"There's a party supply store a few blocks away," Laura provided. "I think they're open until 9."
The Doctor was nodding before she even finished speaking. "Brilliant! Okay, I'll go pick one up and be back in a flash." He dashed into the TARDIS, only to poke his head back out a moment later. "Remind me: what currency do you use in England in the 21st century?"
Laura looked a bit dumbstruck, but Gemma was getting used to his farfetched antics. "British Pound Sterling," she offered with an amused grin.
With a nod of thanks, he slammed the door, and the TARDIS disappeared soon afterward. The two friends caught up over a bit of tea – "That sounds terrifying! I'm so glad you're okay. What do they look like, the Skraw?" – while they waited for the Doctor to return. Gemma had gotten to the 'sewer chase' portion of the story when the TARDIS rematerialized.
The Doctor popped his head out again. "Ah, good! I got the right dorm; that would've been terribly awkward otherwise."
Gemma snickered, while Laura choked on a sip of tea. He didn't seem to notice, and Gemma wondered if he was being intentionally funny or if that was a genuine concern. Either way, he seemed oblivious to his ability to make people laugh.
Gemma quickly composed herself before asking, "So, did you manage to get a fog machine?"
"I did, indeed!" he replied, getting excited over the prospect of getting to tinker with something. "I'll need another pair of hands, though. D'you mind?"
"Sure, happy to help."
"Wonderful! Wait there just a minute." The TARDIS door closed, and just a few minutes later, the Doctor shouldered it open again, his arms and hands full of machinery.
Gemma rushed over to help lighten his load while Laura cleared off the coffee table. All the various tools and tech pieces were promptly dropped on the table.
The Doctor lowered himself to the ground, sitting crisscross. He pulled out a pair of glasses (from where, she had no idea) and began unboxing the fog machine. Gemma sat down next to him, noting how well the frames fit his face. They highlighted his cheekbones more prominently. They drew attention to his sharp, angular nose. They suited him; she thought he should wear them more often. They, apparently, caused her to start fixating on an alien man she'd only just met. (But, on a side note, did he even need them? She imagined that a race pretentious enough to call themselves "Time Lords" would have better vision.)
By the time she stopped staring at his side profile, he'd already unscrewed several panels. With a flashlight in his left hand, a pair of pliers in his right, and the sonic screwdriver in his mouth, the Doctor was elbow deep into the modifications.
"Gmfhenm," he said, before realizing the sonic was still in his mouth. He removed it and tried again. "Gemma, pass me that square metal sheet on the table."
She passed it to him, along with offering to hold his flashlight. He accepted both with gratitude. With Gemma giving him the tools as he requested them and holding things in place when needed, the Doctor was able to make quick work of the machine. Gemma observed him intently while he worked, watching the pistons fire in his mind. Goodness, to see inside a mind like that… all the knowledge and experience and skill. She could barely imagine. And the cherry on top was that he did it all with such grace. He made it look easy. He didn't have to stop to consult a manual or even his own memory; the Doctor just knew. He was piecing together this contraption in the same way that children ride bicycles or chefs make sandwiches. It was second nature. He had this uncanny ability to focus, to single in on a particular thing and pursue it zealously. When the Doctor was working, the rest of the room faded away. Nothing existed outside of that project.
He was basically functioning on autopilot – except his version of autopilot was knowing exactly which part he needed where, how to install it, which tool to use, and what it would accomplish. Gemma wondered what advancements could be made to society if the Doctor were an engineer here on Earth.
Well, those were distracting thoughts better suited for later. She was still acting as his assistant. There was important work to be done. Just as Gemma had this thought, the Doctor requested an exchange of his hammer for a small drill. She dutifully supplied it to him. He secured the main panel back over the fog machine.
"Ha ha!" he exclaimed, leaping up and elevating the contraption with both hands. "This, ladies, is a makeshift Molecular Dispersion Engine! Some of my finest work, if I do say so myself."
"It's ready, just like that?" Laura asked.
"It is, indeed. I'll load the serum through this port here, and with the remote that I fashioned up, we'll be able to activate it from a distance."
"So, we have a location, we have a tool, and we have a target. How do we get all those things to collide?" Gemma wondered.
"Ah, very good question. Laura, is there an enclosed room in the café, one without a window or ventilation?"
She nodded. "There's a storage closet where we keep extra tables and chairs."
The Doctor rhythmically tapped his fingers against his folded arms. "Only one way into the room?" Laura nodded again. "Then that's the scene of the ambush."
Gemma balked. "How are we supposed to lure them in there?"
"In two parts. I'm assuming that you both use social media." The girls gave an affirmation, so he continued, "So, then, Part One will be this: Laura, I want you to post a status update before going into work. Say something about how you hate working the turndown shift – emphasize how it stresses you out. Make sure to mention the place by name, and that you'll be there alone."
"What's the purpose of that?" Laura questioned.
"That's a huge, blinking advertising billboard for the Skraw. I'm sure they monitor and stalk their targets beforehand, and I'm willing to bet they follow your social media. They'll see that post and won't be able to resist it; after all, you're presenting it as the perfect opportunity to strike."
Gemma was beginning to understand. "Ah, that's the bait."
"Precisely. Then, Part Two: Laura will wait in the storage closet, with you and I hidden in the back. As soon as the Skraw enter the shop, they'll be able to smell your hormone secretion. So, although I don't often recommend this, I need you both to let the anxiety run wild. We want the biggest possible signal for them."
"No problem there," Laura remarked. "I'm one big ball of nerves and we haven't even started yet!"
"Excellent - use that to your advantage!"
"Hook, line, and sinker," Gemma supplied, mimicking casting a fishing rod. "That's beyond clever, Doctor!"
He gave a satisfied smile. "That's what I do best! Right, then - we have a plan. Laura, we'll bring you to work in the TARDIS, just to make sure they don't try to attack you on the way."
The prospect of travel in an alien spacecraft was incredibly intoxicating, so Laura hurried to change into her work uniform.
Laura's first time standing in the TARDIS was as eventful as Gemma's. They spent the very short trip admiring the atmosphere and observing the Doctor press buttons and pull levers in what seemed to be a random fashion. Had the stakes and the anxiety not been so high, the girls would've dedicated more time to asking questions.
But traveling from Laura's dorm to the basement coffee shop was laughably quick when using a time machine. So, they were stepping out just minutes after they stepped in. The group descended the stairs, Laura opened the door, and preparations began. The upgraded fog machine was immediately brought into the storage closet. The Doctor picked a strategic location for it – central enough that the serum would reach all the Skraw, but surrounded by enough junk as to be inconspicuous.
Just as Gemma and the Doctor had identified a good hiding spot, Laura came in to check on the progress. The three of them ran through the plan one last time, making sure everyone was on the same page. With the social media update posted, the fog machine in place, and the scene set, everything was ready.
"You guys should probably hide now. Those creatures could show up any minute," Laura said, rubbing her hands together to stave off the nerves.
Gemma was about to do just that, but the Doctor's response halted her. "Just one more thing." He stared at both girls seriously and meaningfully. "In the event that things should go sideways, I'll distract the Skraw while you two make a run for it. Get back to the TARDIS; her emergency protocol will keep you safe and hidden."
"But-but what about you?" Gemma asked with wide, worried, shocked eyes. "If we run, there'll be no one here to help you."
He smiled in a way that made him seem impossibly old. "I can manage on my own. Always have done. My chief concern is that you two stay safe, no matter what. If that happens, then I'll have done what I set out to do."
His use of past tense made Gemma nervous. "Well, my chief concern is that you and Laura are okay. I didn't follow you along throughout this crazy day just to abandon you when things get sticky."
"Gemma, we had a deal, remember? I can't-" the Doctor paused, struggling to maintain composure. "I can't function properly knowing that you and Laura might be in danger. I'll only go through with this if you both make the promise to run." He was learning from his mistakes. He wouldn't lose another person – not on his life.
Laura seemed hesitant, but upon seeing how earnest he was, nodded. "Okay, Doctor. I'll promise, then."
"But you've gotta promise us something, too!" Gemma interjected. "Promise that you'll look out for yourself. Don't go and try to be all reckless and heroic and stupid."
The Doctor wanted to laugh, because he always seemed to find the women that could perceive him with uncanny accuracy. The blunt delivery reminded him of Donna, and for that, he couldn't be mad. He just couldn't. "…Yes, alright. I promise I'll do my best to keep myself safe, as well."
Gemma was satisfied with that, if only just. "Fine, then. I promise, too." She embraced her friend, sharing some words of encouragement. "We shouldn't entertain those thoughts for too long, though. You're gonna be just fine, Laura. Trust the Doctor; he knows what he's doing."
Laura gave a watery smile and nodded, afraid of what her voice would do if she spoke. This was the moment when reality was hitting. Within the next few minutes, they'd either pull off a miracle, or she might be dead. Laura wished she had time for family goodbyes or even coming to terms with her own mortality. But, ironically, even with the Doctor, time was a cruel and fickle thing.
Gemma and the Doctor got situated in their hiding spot, and the waiting began. Laura was dusting off some of the furniture with a rag, just to give herself something to do. Plus, perhaps the façade of working would further help to trick the Skraw – whenever they arrived. The limited air in the closet started to feel heated and thick and suffocating. The wait seemed to go on forever, up until it ended. Five minutes into their vigil, the sound of a creaking door announced the arrival of the Skraw.
"Laura? Are you here?" one of them called with a human voice.
Gemma recognized it as the voice of Professor Griffin, who taught Advanced Calculus. She could only assume that the creature was wearing his visage, as well. It made her sick to think about. These were good people that had been terrorized.
As rehearsed, Laura replied in a loud voice, "Professor Griffin, is that you?"
"Yes. And I've brought a few friends along. Any chance we could get some late-night service?"
The trio started to hear loud sniffing, and they knew that the creatures had their scent. There was some slight shuffling, indicating movement, but it was difficult to tell where exactly the Skraw were. Laura had been expecting them, but she still jumped when four of the campus "professors" appeared in the doorway. Obviously, there were trying to maintain a ruse, but the Doctor was one step ahead of them. The Skraw were about to fall victim to a ruse of their own.
"Ah! You scared me," Laura said, heart to chest, playing along with their game. "Hello, professors. What're you all doing here so late?"
"Midnight snack," "Professor Thymoth" replied.
All four of them smiled at the inside joke. Their smiles were stretched and menacing and not-quite-human. Then, in perfect unison, they stepped into the storage room. The one closest to the door slammed it shut behind them, making Laura jump once again. They were approaching her like a lion trailing a gazelle. The Doctor, not wanting to waste any time or give them any window of opportunity, immediately locked the door via his sonic screwdriver.
Before the Skraw could react to the unexpected noise, the Doctor yelled "Get down!" and remotely activated the machine.
Laura did as instructed, dropping to the ground just as the light blue mist began to disperse. She army crawled as fast as possible, putting distance between herself and the creatures. They would've tried to inhibit her escape had they not been occupied dealing with the vapor. It was quite fast-acting, but because there were four of them, it didn't reach all the Skraw at the same time. As soon as the first one collapsed, the others tried to flee. The gas reached the second one, who tumbled into the third one, taking them both down. The fourth managed to get back to the door, punched and kicking at the lock. Fortunately, the sonic screwdriver impeded "Professor Griffin's" escape attempt long enough for the gas to do its job.
It wasn't until all the Skraw had been still and unresponsive for a full 30 seconds that the Doctor deactivated the machine. Gemma rushed over the help Laura off the floor, coughing slightly in the misty room.
"Don't worry; it's non-toxic to humans. You can safely breathe it in," the Doctor informed as he went to check the bodies. He ran the sonic screwdriver over each one, and their true appearance was revealed.
Laura squealed and flinched away, much like Gemma had. "Oh, gosh, you weren't kiddin' when you said 'space alligators,'" she mumbled, eyes transfixed on the strangest sight she'd ever seen.
Gemma simply nodded. She then addressed the Doctor. "Did it work? Are they out for the count?"
After scanning for a second, he replied, "Oh, yes. They're as unconscious as they come. Should be out for several hours, like the others."
"So that's it, then? No more trouble?" Laura asked, wary and hopeful at the same time.
"No more trouble!" he confirmed. "I'll be returning these menaces to their rightful planet in due course."
Everyone was quiet for a second before Laura started doing a combination of laughing and crying. Gemma joined in shortly afterward. Their expressions of relief quickly turned hysterical, and the two women hugged each other for dear life. They bounced slightly on their feet, swaying back and forth. Declarations of "It worked!" and "I can't believe it's over!" filled the room. When they finally separated and wiped away their joyful tears, they turned to look at the Doctor. He was standing there, smiling himself, seeming to be entertained and heartened by their happiness. With only one look, both girls decided that they needed to include him in the celebration.
They both scurried over and enveloped him in a hug from either side. He was caught off guard at first, but quickly recovered. With his left arm around Laura and his right arm around Gemma, he warmly returned the hug.
"You are a wonder, Doctor!" Laura said, her words muffled by the lapel of his coat. "I don't know how to thank you; you saved my life!"
He chuckled awkwardly. "Ah, well, no need to thank me. I'm just helping out where I can."
It was interesting, Gemma noted, how the Doctor shriveled up in response to appreciation. Sometimes, he had this extremely cocky air about him – which often facilitated clever remarks and self-flattery. Seeing that, one would think that he'd welcome compliments, thrive off them, even. But when someone else genuinely thanked him for a life-saving act, he did his best to undermine or brush it off.
"Well, I'm grateful, all the same," she countered, pulling away from his side. "I still can't believe all that just happened. This has been such a wild night. I don't know what to feel…."
"That's perfectly natural," the Doctor replied. "The shock will wear off sometime tomorrow, I'd say."
Laura nodded distractedly. Her expression quickly turned hesitant as she debated how to phrase her next thought. "I, I don't wanna be rude or anything, but… I really need to go home and see my mum, after all this."
He shook his head fervently. "No, no, no, of course! Not rude at'all. Please, go, be with your family! I'll handle the cleanup here."
Laura gave Gemma one last hug and uttered one last 'thank you' before dashing off. The room fell quiet again, both occupants looking around awkwardly at the disarray. Their night was far from over, it seemed.
Finally, the Doctor broke the silence. Turning to Gemma, he gestured down at the unconscious Skraw. "Fancy helping me load these fellows into the TARDIS again?" At her exasperated look, he quickly added, "I'm almost positive this will be the last time!"
After cleaning up the mess and closing down the store – they picked up the slack for Laura, as she deserved a night off – they were finally able to settle back into the TARDIS.
"Right, then. That's all the Skraw in their holding cells." The Doctor sauntered back into the console room, his grin belying fondness, and his eyes belying fascination. "Thank you, Gemma. Really, thank you. I couldn't have done this without you – you were brilliant. I can't think of many people who'd risk their life to protect a friend."
Gemma beamed and blushed under the appraisement. "I'm just glad to have been of help. It was vital that we succeeded."
"Quite right. Many people are now protected." With a clap of his hands, he faced the controls. "Right, then! Where shall I drop you off?"
It took Gemma a second to process what he was saying. The thought of leaving hadn't occurred to her even once throughout this whole debacle. "Oh… so that's it, then?"
He refused to look at her, knowing that the undoubtedly crushed expression on her face would sway him. This was the difficult part, but he had to stand his ground. "Yes, well, that was the arrangement, wasn't it?"
She frowned and started picking at her nails. "I guess I just thought… maybe once you got to know me, you wouldn't mind havin' me around a bit longer…."
Don't turn around. Don't turn around. Don't. Turn. Around!
"I know I'm not like, Superwoman or anything…" Gemma continued, much to his dismay, "But, well… you said I was helpful."
Oh, bugger. The Doctor finally gave in, turning to look at his upset passenger. His hearts clenched, seeing the disappointment radiating off her. And what was more, he'd gone and made her feel rejected!
He rushed to speak, words tumbling over themselves is his attempt to amend his mistake. "You were! Gemma, you were fantastic! I'm not- I don't have qualifications for my passengers. You humans are wonderful, the lot of you! It isn't about any failing on your part; I'd be delighted to have you. But I just can't." He maintained firm eye contact, desperate for her to recognize his sincerity.
Gemma's browed furrowed, her mood suddenly going from sullen to frustrated. "Why? Why are you so adamant? What's the harm? What happened, Doctor?"
The Doctor sighed. He desperately hoped to avoid a more detailed explanation, but Gemma was quite determined. He should've known that she wouldn't let him fly off that easily.
He motioned for her to make room on the bench and took a seat next to her. This had officially become a sit-down discussion. "Honestly, Gemma, if I had it my way, I'd be traveling with people for as long as I live. But it isn't that simple." Gemma turned sideways so that she was fully facing him, enraptured in his narrative. Under other circumstances, he would've found that endearing. "The sort of traveling we did was very high-risk. You've seen it firsthand! Gemma, days like today aren't rare; I end up dragging my companions into trouble all the time.
"And, unfortunately, that sort of stress takes its toll. They always end up leaving, one way or another." This was a point where he could've stopped. He could've wrapped up the conversation and moved her along, confident that he'd adequately sated her curiosity. But for some reason, he didn't stop there. Once the words started coming, they wouldn't stop. "Sometimes, we end up separated... and our travels come to an end against our will. Some of them leave, deciding that they need to be with family - quite right, too. Others… others, I have to leave behind myself, for their own health and safety. …But, no matter which way you cut it, my influence is always negative. I won't continue to risk their lives, all for my own selfish desires."
Gemma was quiet for a minute, processing all he said. Her silence made the Doctor think that the matter was finally settled, but then she responded. "What 'selfish desires' would those be, Doctor? Friendship? Company? Being able to share the things you love with people you care about?"
"Yes, but at what cost, Gemma?" He snapped, and almost immediately regretted it. He hadn't meant to take his emotions out on her. That wasn't fair.
The Doctor was going to say something in the way of an apology, but Gemma spoke first. With a longsuffering sigh, she said: "I don't know the full story, and I know it's none of my business. But I can speak from personal experience. As long as I've known you, you saved myself and my friend – two women who you barely knew. You paid attention when everyone else was ignoring the missing students. You saved a campus full of faculty and students. And you even showed mercy to the perpetrators."
"You were only put in danger when I showed up."
"I was in danger far before you came along. I was a patient; I was on their hit-list. The Skraws' presence had nothing to do with you. All you did was help. And I have a feeling that you blame yourself for a lot of catastrophes that had nothing to do with you. From where I'm standing, Doctor, you don't create trouble; you prevent it – as best you can."
The Doctor was bewildered, and he wasn't afraid to show it. "Does it not alarm you that none of my past companions are with me today?"
That made her think for a second. "Are any of them dead?"
"…No."
"Are any of them in immediate danger, or constant suffering, or irreparably harmed?"
"…I mean, no, but I can't speak for their emotional state." (Though, to be fair, he couldn't speak for his own emotional state.)
"Well… the way I see it, the rewards outweigh the risks. And that's probably a conclusion that your other companions came to, as well."
If that were the case, why'd they leave? The Doctor took his frustration out on his messy head of hair. "Perhaps, but again, what happens when the risks outweigh the rewards? It will happen eventually, Gemma; it always does. It's not worth it."
"I want to decide that for myself," she declared firmly. The Doctor was surprised by the resolve building on her face. He didn't often find himself arguing back and forth with his guests – save, perhaps, for Donna. Yet another moment when Gemma reminded him of her. "Doctor, I have spent my entire life avoiding risks and never getting any rewards. I want to… be creative, think outside the box, experience new things. My parents have always been so routine and stifling and monotonous! In my house, there's a place for everything, and everything's in its place. Deviance from this strick, unimaginative way of life is patrolled and punished.
"My parents don't even support my goals; they never have! They find my passion for writing to be an irresponsible way to spend my time. They prefer mundane, predictable jobs that promise security. And I know they're doing what they think is best for me, but they don't listen! That's not what I want.
"They'd never let me go on a trip even one-tenth the scale of what we did today. But I found it exhilarating because it was something new! I learned and grew more in the last 12 hours than I have in 22 years. If I keep following my parents' lead without resistance, my dream of being a writer will be squashed…. But, if I were to take the opportunity to travel with you, I get to accomplish so many of the things I thought I never would! I mean, what good am I as a potential writer if I have no life experience to inspire my stories? I need this, Doctor. Please."
After that impassioned speech, he made the mistake of looking her in the eyes. He could see how intensely she felt about this. She was excited and nervous and angry and unwavering, all at the same time. He recognized something of himself in her expression. The Doctor knew how it felt to desperately want to defy convention and routine. It was the basis for his entire lifestyle. It would be hypocritical and cruel to ignore a plight like hers – given that it hit so close to home. And amongst all the swirling emotions in her eyes, he also saw a spark. An open-minded, intense desire to discover the universe. He'd seen that spark many times before – in Sarah Jane, in Rose, in Martha, in Donna….
But thinking about all of them brought the Doctor back to his original objection: he didn't want to risk her life. It wasn't worth it. But then… Gemma did say she wanted to make that decision for herself – which wasn't an unreasonable viewpoint. She was her own person; she had the right to choose her course through life. If he began going around telling everyone what they could and couldn't do, limiting their knowledge and their opportunities… well, that would make him like the stuffy powermongers that he's been fighting all his life.
Gemma's leg bounced under his intense appraisal. The Doctor realized that he truly was holding her dreams in his hand. And who was he to gatekeep such things? With a massive sigh, he finally replied: "Alright, how about this? I propose another deal. I'll take you on a predetermined, limited number of trips, to minimize potential damage, and then bring you back." Her nervous trembling turned into excited shaking, but the Doctor wasn't quite done yet. "But – but, if you decide at any point that the risks outweigh the rewards, you have to promise to let me know!"
His stern pointed finger and severe expression did nothing to tame Gemma's rising glee. "You mean it?! I can come with you? You're not just sayin' that?"
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I can assure you that I am one to keep my promises, Gemma."
The end of his sentence very nearly cut off when Gemma squealed – a very high-pitched, affectionate sound – and threw herself at the Doctor, knocking all the air from his lungs. It was all he could do to adjust to her sudden weight and prevent them both from tumbling onto the grating. She held onto him for dear life, repeatedly uttering 'thank you's.
He allowed himself a smile, already settling into the familiar routine of having an eager passenger. "I'm glad you're excited. …Now, as to the number of trips, I'm thinking five."
All of Gemma's appreciation and cheerfulness disappeared in an instant. She retracted from the hug, giving him a hard stare. "Five? No chance – that's hardly enough to see all the things I wanna see! I'm thinking more like… 25."
"25?! Absolutely not – the threshold for chaos is way too high with that. Ten," he countered.
"20!" she fired back almost immediately.
"15, and that's my final offer! Take it or leave it."
Gemma smiled rather successfully - and the Doctor realized that, perhaps, this was outcome she'd sought all along. She played him, and he wanted to be angry, but he was mostly impressed.
"You've got yourself a deal!" she declared with a resolute nod.
The Doctor cleared his throat, standing from the launch seat. "Right then. So, that's been settled. Now I just have to drop off these mischievous teenagers – and remove whatever remnants of their activity remain in those sewers. It shouldn't take more than two hours. In the meantime, get your affairs in order and pack whatever you think you'll need. I'll come back to pick you up."
She quirked an eyebrow, considering him suspiciously. "This isn't another attempt to ditch me, is it? You'll actually come back, right?"
The Doctor's initial reaction was to be offended at Gemma's poor impression of him, but when he noticed the apprehension in her eyes, he mellowed. This was her dream, and she was just afraid to lose it. "No, of course not! We have a deal, and it's like I said: I always keep my promises." He wanted to add that he'd never abandon her, never leave her unexpectedly, without explanation. But then he thought of Sarah Jane, and the Doctor couldn't bring himself to say that.
Gemma seemed perfectly reassured, though. "Okay, just had to be sure. But if I don't hear from you within two hours, mister, I'm gonna project your name in the sky like the Bat Signal!"
He laughed – and genuine, deep, lighthearted laugh - and then gave a two-finger salute. "I shan't disappoint you, m'lady."
Gemma smiled, rattled off even more expressions of gratitude, and gave him one last hug for the road. Then they parted ways, if only temporarily. Gemma buzzing with energy and excitement as she packed. The Doctor, taking a moment to meditate in solitude, grew cautious and guarded. He insisted that he'd protect this companion in the ways that he'd failed the others. This was important to Gemma (which made it important to him, though he didn't recognize that yet) and the outcome was of even more importance. No more mistakes. He really hoped this, in and of itself, wasn't a massive mistake….